It's a Nice Day to Start Again

By S. Faith, © 2012

Words: 78,546
Chapters: 11 + epilogue
Rating: M / R
Summary, Credits, Warning, etc.: See Chapter 1.

Epilogue.

The quiet, throaty chuckle behind him, the soft feel of her hand on his shoulder, made him smile.

"You're watching it again?" she asked.

"Of course." He had just turned on the video from the christening: the young boy held on to his mother's hand, peering with curiosity over the edge into where an infant was sleeping soundly; he turned up for approval before reaching out to gently pat the fine blonde hair on the baby's head…. How many times he had watched it, and still he couldn't seem to get enough of it. He smiled.

"You know, you could put that on the telly, larger than life." She knew his answer, though; he liked to play these videos on his laptop as a mental respite between work tasks. From her position behind him, she combed her nails through his hair in a subconscious and familiar manner, starting at his temples and back over the nape, before she bent and kissed the crown of his head, then lingered. She was watching too, and chuckled. "Hmm, too bad we can't hear what he's saying."

"It isn't often I hear you say that," he said. This made her laugh again.

She brought her hands to his shoulders then to his upper arms. "Almost done?" she asked, then bent and delivered a tantalising kiss to the side of his neck.

He wasn't, but he certainly could be. She'd barely had a moment free over the last six months. "Done for today, I think," he said, then swivelled in his chair to face her. "How about you?"

She grinned, then wiggled her brows. "I am all yours."

He felt a sense of disbelief. "All mine?"

She nodded, caressing his face tenderly. "Mm-hm," she reaffirmed. "Magda to the rescue."

The video continued playing to his right, and her attention was captured momentarily by it. She smiled; smiling always made her beautiful, but there was a special quality to her expression whenever she watched the videos. "He's such a little personality," she said, then turned back to him, the same tender expression on her face. "I'm so lucky to have him."

He pulled her to sit across his lap, gently stroked her cheek then kissed her. "We both are," he said, then added teasingly, gesturing towards the wailing baby on the computer screen, "and that squiggling pink crying monster we call his sister."

She giggled at this, then placed her palm lovingly against his cheek and bent to kiss him before she drew back to meet his gaze.

"Penny for your thoughts," she asked tenderly, tracing her fingertip along his brow.

He wondered where to begin, listing the things for which he was immeasurably thankful. An amazing woman on his lap, beautiful to her very soul, and with whom he'd had the pleasure and joy of producing two children; along with her, they were the light, the very centre of his life. Friends on whom they could count to babysit when needed so that he could remind her how much happiness she had brought to his life, and so she could do the same; friends who provided their children with the warm, loving extended urban family (to borrow one of her coined phrases) that every child needed, to supplement the strong tie between their own blood families; and particularly a redeemed friend who could and did play the role of eccentric uncle for two parents who were themselves without siblings.

"You know," he said casually, offering a warm smile. "The usual."

"Ah," she said. "Gratitude that you have thus far resisted throttling my mother."

He laughed abruptly, then kissed her again; he then rose, taking her up in his arms. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm grateful for."

The end.

Notes:

For actual links (more than what's here), you'll have to visit the same page at: www, stillwatersdeep, altervista, org [slash] StartAgain [slash] index12, php (use your imagination as to how to properly parse this).

Snippet of Tarts and Vicars weekend hotel room conversation comes from the BJD screenplay.

Calendar layout for the movie coincides with 2006. However, this is clearly not actually 2006. ;)

The Bridge Hotel is a real hotel with which I am taking enormous liberties. Looks like a lovely place and, in terms of driving, is fairly close to Grafton Underwood.

"Hospitals told to lift mobile phone ban": a news story that's from 2009. This is all happening now, anyway—right?

Black bean and brown rice cold salad and another cold rice salad (page in Italian). Doesn't sound half bad!

Divorce lump sum settlements apparently not taxable in the UK.

Mews of Mayfair seems like a pretty nice bar.

Bridget's charity: The Great Initiative.